“That she …? I broke up with her.” He wasn’t sure why he cared to set Juan straight. The result was the same. He still needed and wanted her.
“What? No way! You were, like, going to ask her to marry you!”
Brayden smacked Juan’s arm. “Shut up!”
“Oh, right, right, right. My bad.” Juan pressed his finger over his lips. “Sh. Sh. Sh.”
Juan liked to talk … “Hey, do the guys think I’m a fake as a coach and stuff?” Great, now he was talking like Juan.
Juan’s jaw dropped. “No way, man. No way. We were, like, totally broken up when Coach told us what happened. I think I cried—you know, like manly tears and stuff. Why? What’d you hear?”
“Nothing. It was just a feeling I got.”
“You’re just in your head. You know. You’re thinking too much about things. Get out of your head and get out of your way.”
“Hey, Juan. Come pee in this cup for me,” called Turner, Doc’s assistant. They were subject to surprise drug tests at the will of the medical staff. They kept records of each test to ensure that the players weren’t using steroids.
Juan laughed. “Anything for you.” He sauntered down the hall.
“Aim. Okay?” Turner said in a warning tone.
“What are you talking about? I have the best aim out of anyone on the team.”
Brayden shook his head at Juan’s antics. The scary thing was that that guy had full custody of three daughters.Juanwas the better option between him and his ex-wife. Brayden had met the girls at the Home Run Derby Party—they were all little ladies, so Juan must take being a father more seriously than he took the rest of his life.
Even though his friend was a goof, he had a point. Brayden was all up in his own head over this coaching thing. He needed to get out of his own way. His steps faltered as a new thought came to him. Had he done the same thing with Tilly? Had he gotten in his way? In their way? He rubbed his stomach, suddenly feeling uneasy.
Chapter Fourteen
Tilly
It was a darn shame to be stuck in a staff meeting on a sunny day like this. Tilly sat near the door, worried that if she moved any deeper into the room she’d suffocate. Even though her bike ride had ended in a bush, it had fanned the flames of her desire to be outdoors. This morning, she’d taken the elementary kids outside three more times than the tour called for because she wanted to feel the sun on her face.
Maverik had done an excellent job of slathering her cuts with antibiotic ointment and Vitamin E. Contrary to popular belief, chicks don’t dig scars—at least not on their own arms. Twenty-four hours of ice did wonders for her shin. She still had the horrible bump, but that would eventually go away too. She’d had worse. If people could see what her heart looked like right now, they’d be much more concerned about that than the bump on her shin hidden beneath her loose-fitting cargo pants.
“In short,” summed Sheila, the head of the community outreach program, “we’re looking to hire another tour guide and someone who will go into the schools to do programs about bullying. If you know anyone who is great with kids, tell them to come apply.”
The group clapped. Jerry, the computer geek who had skin so white his blue veins stood out, went to stand.
Sheila waved for him to sit back down. “Hang on there. We wanted to introduce you all to the newest member of the Redrocks: Gunner Pinch.” She threw her hands toward the door. It swung open and in walked Western Claude, the PR director, followed by a guy that made Tilly sit up in her seat.
Gunner. What a great name.
When Gunner grinned, several women in the room fanned their faces. Tilly closed her eyes for a moment. Her brain had gone into Brayden mode, cataloguing all the reasons this man was not as hot as Brayden. For starters, he was blond in an Australian surfer kind of way, and Brayden had dark hair to his chin that flipped up at the ends, dark eyes like the color found when staring deep into a lake, tall, and handsome. The natural red streak going down the middle of his beard gave him character that no other guy could muster. Ugh! She needed to stop. Brayden’s beautifully shaped body and magnetic brown eyes had officially spoiled her on men. If she didn’t figure out how to get past that, she’d be alone for the rest of her life.
“Are you okay?” asked Jerry. His fingers brushed her forearm. They felt sticky.
Tilly opened her eyes and joked, “Do you think you could reprogram my brain?”
He shook his head, jarring the tiny glasses off his large nose. He set them back in place. “I can’t do that again.”
“Again?” she asked in alarm. She’d always thought Jerry was shy, but maybe he was the creepy, quiet kind. The kind that holed up in his mother’s basement and trolled the dark corners of the internet. She scooted slightly away.
He faced forward, his eyes so wide, and refused to look at her again.
Mental note: don’t tick off Jerry.“I was kidding,” she whispered, hoping she wasn’t making things worse. The last thing she needed right now was some weird stalker.
Up front, Mr. Claude was going through Gunner’s list of achievements.
